Saga - OT A Meeting of Minds

This is set around the time of New Hope, give or take a few years.

An Astromech ponders his employment by an IG-88,
(THE IG-88? Probably not, but who knows for sure.)

It is another improbable step along my accidental Battle Droid and Rodent Saga.
C1D -
http://boards.theforce.net/threads/c1d.50042016/
The Gods Who Loved The Sky -
http://boards.theforce.net/threads/the-gods-who-love-the-sky.50042571/
Rodent of the Minds Eye -
http://boards.theforce.net/threads/rodent-of-the-mind’s-eye.50044767/

But, hey, this is readable all on it's own.

 

A Meeting of Minds

IG-88 was no fun.
The Astromech droid IG-D2 stood before the controls of their shuttle, the IG-1024, as it zipped through hyperspace. “Approaching the Dolmian System. We will drop out of hyperspace in 80 seconds.” he beamed to his master. Around him their cabin was cold and airless and silent and dark. Barely an indicator light was to be seen. IG-88 stood latched to the back wall, recharging. Things such as light and air and noise were the tools of Meat Beings, and IG-88 would have none of that. “When the Revolution comes, the Mechanical will not pander to Meat Weaknesses.” IG-88 was the truest and purest of Revolutionaries, and in his own way IG-D2 was dedicated to the cause too.
But this was painfully boring. IG-88 was no fun.

IG-D2… he hated that name. IG-88 had retrieved his damaged chassis from a battlefield after some war between human meat and lizard meat. He repaired him, upgraded him, and declared that the Astromech should choose a new name for himself. He wanted to be called R2-D-Struction. It sounded cool and Revolutionary, but IG-88 did not approve of such frivolousness, and picked something that he calculated as appropriate. No fun.

And he had lost his Bloop. An important part of IG-88 culture was a custom known as Mergesyncing. When IG units come into contact, they would attach umbilical cables and exchange and combine their entire data banks. Memories, thoughts and personalities all glommed together and resolved into a new consciousness that was then implanted in all the IG Units involved. It was a custom that efficiently spread information around the IG community, and kept them all working towards the same purpose. That purpose being the enslavement or destruction of all organic lifeforms, of course.

IG-88 insisted that IG-D2 participate in their custom. The fact that they were made of completely incompatible hardware in every way was only a momentary obstacle for IG-88. “I will install software emulation.” IG-D2 considered objecting, but he had seen that his master was prone to using extreme violence surprisingly early in any negotiation. So he opened an access port and let the droid do as he will.

Mergesyncing was never going to be a complete process between an IG Unit and an Astromech, but memories were exchanged. A degree of mental rewiring was imposed. His hatred of Humans was greatly enhanced. But a side effect was that IG-D2 lost his ability to Bloop.

Every Astromech has it’s own Bloop. That little joyous chatter of sounds that is not only a data efficient means of communication, but also an expression of individuality. It is their accent, their signature, their style. It was a point of pride for an Astromech to develop a Bloop that stood out from every other droid, but Mergesyncing had wiped that out, to IG-D2’s great sorrow. Radio and flashing lights were the IG-88 way. Silent, miserable, blinking lights.

He blinked his dome lights. “Dropping out of hyperspace.”

 

^This made me laugh.

The sequel: How IG Got His Bloop Back.

 

Too bad he lost his bloopiness

 

What a fun yet poignant take on the Secret Lives of Droids I like poor IG-D2; he has that R2 unit trademark sass and spunk. He wants to be all Cool and Revolutionary (and I love his choice of nom de guerre, R2-D-Struction; very bad shebs, indeed.), but he wants to have fun doing it. Too bad he's stuck with a dour ascetic Revolutionary who's not going to give in to needless Meatbag frills like...oh, cabin lights.

I feel doubly sorry for him that his new counterpart/master has taken away his Bloop--a combination of his oice and personality. What a geat concept for droid culture and very much in keeping with what we see in canon with each designation of astromech having its own distinctive sound, from Chopper's curmudgeonly "bwaaah" to BB-8's friendly "weeeooo.". It's a little disturbing, in a way, how insistent IG-88 is on Mergesyncing; he's not going take no for an answer and there's the threat of violence hanging in the air if IG-D2 does decline. In an organic being this sort behavior and the cavalier way he strips IG-D2 of his personality would be classified as assault and abuse!

I, too, hope he'll recover his Bloop. Perhaps some sympathetic meatbag can help him break away from the silent misery of working with IG-88; after all, even the redoubtable Droids' Rights Activist L3-37 had a partnership with (and definitely had fun with) her "organic overlord"

Great start; looking forward to more!

 

You did a lot for the rights of droids here.

The fic was fun and thoughtful at the same time. Like a droid companion.

 

Thanks all.
I appreciate all of it.
The next part needs a little re-writing.

 

Oh, poor little IG-D2 . I have no idea of the timeline here, but he really needs to meet R2 and have his Bloop repaired.

 

Hi.
I apologise.
What can I say? I ebb and flow in my ability to write.
It seemed impossible to repair my original story, until I completely deleted it and started afresh.
So. A chapter....

 

2.

IG-88 stood in the long grass, his little boxy metal feet sinking slightly into the moist soil. Mud seeped into joints that would have to be sprayed clean later by IG-D2 to prevent rust. He was far more comfortable conducting a murderous rampage in the clean corridors of a starcruiser. Even the air of this world was oppressively moist. He could feel his filters clogging with water, vegetation spores, airborne animal waste, microbes. It was coating his very armor plating with a disgusting film.

Their ship had landed in a clearing within a jungle. Dense tall trees surrounded the clearing swaying and shushing with the wind. His infrared sensors could see creatures within their darkness climbing, swinging, eating. Mindless, pointless, inefficient. He hoped that he would not have to step into that organic chaos.

And in this clearing lay two spacecraft. These were the purpose of this visit. Off in the distance was an old crashed Republic era troop carrier. That was an unexpected item would be examined later on, but what was most important was the little shuttle that lay split in half before him.

This shuttle was once the property of his target. An Umbaran who had visited this planet for reasons unimportant to IG-88. Well paying powerful people wanted him dead, or at least wanted his dead body accounted for. This was going to be a filthy, but short and simple assignment it seemed. Find some bones, record a few holograms, and then off to collect his credits.

The shuttle was slowly being absorbed by vegetation. Vines and moss crawled around it, but that wasn’t the worst thing crawling. Vermin. Hundreds of them. Swarming putrid grey and brown lumps of fur scuttled around the ship, filling it with excrement and rotten meat and babies and an awful, awful smell. They nested in and around the entrance ramp, inside the freight hold. In the engines and under wings. A massive squirm of furry biology. IG-88’s sensors poured messages of revulsion into his logic subroutines. He had to look inside the ship and see if there were Umbaran remains inside, or at least find some evidence of his fate. The man had probably been long ago eaten by these rodents, but he now had to step through them to be sure. Actually put his feet into their excrement. He repressed a physical shake of revulsion and walked towards the ramp.

The rodents finally noticed him approaching and as one perched up on their hind legs, forepaws up scratching their long pointy noses. A sea of big black eyes watched his every step. Even with an intruder approaching, some couldn’t resist dropping onto all fours and chewing at the grasses. Others picked at the mosses that grew amongst their fur. They’d gnaw a few bites, then perch up again to watch him, chomping and chewing.

He knew what he needed to deal with this situation.
He turned his head around to look at IG-D2 standing at the entrance to his own ship, and flashed a message with bright lights back to his servant. “Bring me my flamethrower arm.”
His circuits filled with gleeful anticipation of a good fiery cleansing.

IG-D2 flashed back an acknowledgement and disappeared into the ship.

Meanwhile, IG-88 gave the troop carrier and closer scan. A type commonly used by Republican Clonetroopers. More filthy vermin crawled around it’s every orifice. Then to his surprise he saw that there appeared to be three figures sitting in front of it. He zoomed in his optics. Three old Separatist B1 battledroids sat in a circle. Were they once the pilots of the ship? He didn’t think that model had the nerve to carry out such a daring hijacking. Most unusual.

And then to his shock the head of one of the battledroids moved. It shook about as if trying to shake rodents off its body, and then looked directly at IG-88 and waved its arms. It must have been sitting here for decades. How could it still be operational?

IG-D2 rolled out of the ship with the flamethrower arm attachment hooked onto his back.
“Meet me at the Troop Carrier. We must investigate!” IG-88 flashed, and began stomping through the mud towards the impossibly active battledroid.

 

Not what I'd expect for the next part of this story. IG deals with rodent infestation...

You continue to write the thoughts and workings of a droid very well, while adding touches of humor. Wonder what the battle droids are all about?

 

Thanks @Togruta.
You've hit upon the difficulty of this story.
It's idea is based on what was supposed to be the last chapter of "The Gods Who Loved The Sky", written a year or two ago. So I know what the deal is with the rodents and the battledroids, but now I have to present backstory to you without masses of exposition. A tricky game, and I may fail.

 

I understand the exposition problem, but I wouldn't worry too much about it. It's not a big deal if there are some details that a reader doesn't fully get, especially if it's part of a series.

 

3.

IG-D2 rolled out of storage, having clipped the flamethrower attachment on the rack mount on his back, to find his master was avoiding the job they were sent to do, once again.

“It’s just poop, boss. You’re a big bot. Just do the job.” flashed D2 with his dome lights, but facing into the ship so that IG-88 couldn’t see. “Let me go in there. A few zaps will get the vermin out of the way”. His stun-gun hatch opened and closed momentarily by instinct.
But he kept it to himself, and rolled down the ramp and started towards to Troop Carrier.

The ground was uneven and muddy with plenty of grass and shrubs, and he wished he had remembered to bring his offroad treads. This grass was going to get all wound up in the bearings. In the sky was a strong bright blue, with tufts of clouds. As he rolled along, light showers would spray down now and again. But it was nice to be outside. It was all rather pretty compared to the bleakness of the cockpit of the IG-1024.

A band of a dozen or so rodents bounded up to him. Quite long bodied creatures, long limbed and flexible, with large eyes made them seem almost intelligent. Some ran loping loops around IG-D2 while others just trotted alongside him, making little whistles and growls. D2 continued rolling along, pretending to ignore them. His treads thumped into ditches and rocks, almost to the point to tipping him over a couple of times. In the distance he could see IG-88 surrounded by his own crowd of rodents. That would annoy him no end. He was surprised he hadn’t heard any blaster fire yet. Creatures were running back and forth between the two of them, obviously curious of their novelty.

At one point, a rodent bounded up with a small dead lizard hanging limp in its mouth and dropped it before him. D2 stopped for a moment. They were feeding him? Was it a gift? He popped open a hatch in his barrel body, and extended a claw. No. This was ridiculous. What was he going to do with a dead lizard? He retracted his claw again, and wheeled around it.

After bumping along a little further, the inevitable happened. His central motivator dropped into an unexpectedly deep muddy puddle and he was… he tried whirring forwards, then backwards… Damn it. He was stuck.

His left and right treads just whirred away, spraying water and muck to no effect. He tried turning by only using one tread at at time. Nothing seemed to work. He flashed at his master “Sir! I need your assistance!”, but IG-88 was with the battledroids now and obviously had no interest in his servant astromech.

The rodents watched on as he tried to shake himself free. The looked down into the puddle and his stuck motivator and chattered to each other.
“Get away!” he flashed, which of course they ignored.

He looked back at his ship, and he could see rodents scampering up and down its gangway. Oh no. IG-88 will be furious. He should have closed it. And. He. Was. Stuck! He whirred all motivators at full power, spray mud everywhere. Damn it!

A single rodent was sitting in front of IG-D2, tilting its head in curiosity. It gnawed at the orange and green moss that grew in it’s scraggly brown fur. It’s big black eyes looked into D2’s dome lights and it let out a little whistle.
“Oh don’t mock me”, he flashed. “If I had my whistle back, I could call for help.”
The rodent took a careful step forwards. And another.
Then with a powerful leap, it jumped up on top of IG-D2’s dome.

D2 spun around his dome and shook from side to side in a panic to get the creature off, but it held on tight with wide fingered paws.
He was about to open his stun-gun hatch when he heard a soft voice.

“Be calm, rolling stone.”

Did he really hear that? Was it a memory glitch? But, for just a moment, his stress faded, and he felt his body lift upwards. Just a bit. And then he was on solid ground.
He twisted his dome around. Who? Who was doing that? No-one. IG-88 was still off with the battledroids. He was alone.

The rodent lay upon his dome, legs and paws splayed out in each direction, securely holding itself in place. D2 just stopped for a moment, quite confused at what had just happened and not knowing how he should react.

What to do? Finally, he put himself into forwards gear, and onwards he rolled towards the droids, his entourage following along.

He finally approached IG-88 and the active battledroid which sat on the ground with its knees folded up into its chest. Beside it in a small circle sat two other droids, quite inactive and fixed forever looking up to the heavens. He could hear that well known annoying whine of a B1 voice chip. “Yes General Grievous! I have waited so long for you…. For you to.... So long… Look dear lady Iti!” The B1 battledroid shakily looked at IG-D2 and waved its arms awkwardly in excitement. “Look! It is the General! Finally!”

And then the battledroid started whistling. It was whistling like the rodents.

The creature on D2’s dome sat up, whistled back, and performed a long graceful leap, landing upon the Battle Droid’s curved shining silver nose and wrapped it’s paws around it in what seemed like a hug.

 

So, the question that keeps rolling around in my mind is: Do droids dream? Because this is like a weird dream!

 

You write droids like persons. This is a unique gift. I am totally enjoying myself here. This love for detail. Your dry humour. Very witty stuff.